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Walking through Yesteryear

18 Oct

There is something about the mixture of pumpkin spice lattes and red leaves that brings on the festival fever.

At least, that’s what I observed at last weekend’s annual Heritage Day festival at a nearby plantation.

Swarms of people traveled to, essentially, the middle of nowhere to experience the beauty of the plantation and to see the old log cabins and the vendors dressed up like Americans from yesteryear (think long cotton dresses and straw hats). Imagine the fragrance of kettle corn, the texture of scruffy hand-made brooms and the squeal of an accordion, and you’ll have a better picture of the event’s festivities.

My mom sold baked goods — like pumpkin fudge and sourdough bread — while my sister sold her hand-made jewelry. Naturally, I spent much of my time helping them with their stands, but I also had the chance to wander the grounds with my fiancee as we sampled local honey (delicious!), bought fried pies and tried to not get bitten by the goats.

Until next time,



Summer Daze

26 Jul

Dear friend,

Summer has a way of making me feel so busy and lazy at the same time, like I’m running in slow motion and never quite arriving anywhere. It’s funny to think of all the plans I make as I waste time daydreaming during finals week, but once freedom actually arrives, all I want to do is sleep. Oh, life.

After driving over 5,000 miles back home (yes, you read that number correctly), life quickly morphed into full packing mode. The first thing I learned is that cardboard quickly dries your hands out – funny I don’t recall that detail from my last move, but I think my sister and I went through a whole bottle of hand lotion. Second, is that packing all day is extremely tiring. You wouldn’t think that putting cans of tuna and coffee mugs in a box would be that difficult, but by the end of each day, my family was simply exhausted.

Other than that, my days are filled with planning for the upcoming semester and trying to savor the remaining weeks before my last year of school.

Before I stray too far about the recent happenings, however, I’d like to finally finish up the last few days of my time driving home from Portland. I made a few stops along the way, particularly at the Crazy Horse Memorial and Mt. Rushmore.

Crazy Horse had the potential to be one of the coolest memorials here in the States – except for the fact that the project has been running for decades and is no where close to being finished. Not only that, but just to park at the memorial is over 20 bucks a car. The parking lot is quite a distance from the memorial, and to the side of the chief’s face, but you can’t simply walk down the long pathway to get a better look. You have to pay more money for a bus driver to take you there, to see a fragment of the mountain carving. Sorry for the rant, but I was more than a little irritated at the set-up. I got as close to the gate as a could, snapped a few pictures, and made my way to Mt. Rushmore.

I visited Mt. Rushmore when I was a little kid, but it was good to see it again (especially since my memory as a five-year-old wasn’t exactly great!).

The next day, I had the chance to spend a few moments in the Badlands.

And, last but certainly not least, I took a shot of the shattered jars that decided to jump out of our pantry shelves and make a complete mess on the kitchen floor at 4:23 this morning. It was loud, and scary, and we thought that someone had tried to break into our house. We walked through the house, checking each window and outside door, until we stopped in the kitchen. Dad says, “Why do I smell green beans?” My eyes had adjusted to the dark by that time, and I saw gooey mess surrounding us. It’s a miracle we didn’t have glass in our feet, because shards were found as far as the den rug. Crazy!

Until next time,